


Better

by romanticalgirl



Category: British Actor RPF, King Arthur (2004) RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-01
Updated: 2013-01-01
Packaged: 2017-12-05 00:03:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/716583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/romanticalgirl/pseuds/romanticalgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's all part of my charm</p>
            </blockquote>





	Better

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted 1-16-06

Clive sank down on the steps beside Ioan and leaned back against the door, surveying the surroundings. “Sweeping green fields outside and enough women to ‘round inside and you’re out here smelling piss and staring at yesterday’s garbage.” He takes a long swig from the beer in his hand. “What’s next? A rousing hymn?” He takes another drink and offers the bottle. “What’s goin’ on, Ioan?”

“Just wanted some air.”

“I can see how piss would rate over Hugh’s cologne.”

Ioan finished the last of the bottle and sighed. “It’s nothing, Clive. I’ll be in.”

“Yeah?” He laughed low as Ioan nodded. “We’ll see.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Ioan leaned back and caught Clive’s gaze with his own.

“I saw you watching Kiera with Mads and Hugh. What’s the matter? Afraid you’re not the prettiest in the room?”

Ioan laughed and got to his feet. “There’s never a question I’m the prettiest in the room.”

“So the curled eyelashes would attest.” Clive stood as well. “Come on, gorgeous. I’ll let you buy me a pint.”

“You’ve got that the other way ‘round, don’t you?” Ioan led the way back into the pub with a glance over his shoulder. “You’re supposed to buy me a pint.”

Clive leaned in and dropped his voice so that it whispered across Ioan’s skin, feathering against his ear. “Would be,” he agreed, “but I’m an equal opportunity bastard.”

Ioan shivered slightly. “Two pints. Coming up.”

**

Ioan stumbled down the stairs, just catching himself from hitting the wall. He laughed as he turned, rubbing his scratched palms against his jeans. “Fuck.”

“You’re drunk.”

He shook his head at Clive. “Welshmen don’t get drunk.”

“What do Welshmen call it then?” He lit a fag and leaned against the opposite wall. “Pissed? Potted?”

“We merely get more eloquent and….” Ioan’s brow furrowed. “Other things.” He looked down at his hands. “Bloody hell. I’m not going to be able to hold my swords tomorrow.”

Blowing smoke, Clive walked over to him, catching Ioan’s wrist and studying it in the dim, yellow light from above the pub’s back door. “I think you’ll live.”

Ioan looked up, his tongue snaking out over his bottom lip. “Think so?”

Clive laughed, the sound like a thick heat in the cool air. “I do.” He kept his grip on Ioan’s wrist, tightening it slightly. “Though I suppose, if you’ve got some reservations about my medical expertise, I could find someone to kiss it and make it better?” Breath catching in his throat, Ioan gave a thin laugh. Looking up from Ioan’s hand, Clive met his gaze then stepped forward, his movement forcing Ioan back against the bricks. He levered the hand in his grasp up over Ioan’s head then tossed his cigarette away and did the same with the other, pinning him to the wall. “Where does it hurt?”

Ioan’s chest heaved as he fought for breath. “It…”

Clive moved closer, his body tight against Ioan’s, breath stirring his dark curls. “Or shall I be thorough and simply start at the top and work my way down?” He cut off Ioan’s reply with a sharp nip of his lower lip, sucking on the warm flesh until Ioan’s mouth opened, allowing Clive’s tongue access.

Clive’s leg parted Ioan’s, nudging between them until his knee pressed against the brick, the warm glide denim against denim as their thighs rubbed, the soft rush of sound punctuated by the wet slide of tongue on tongue. Ioan groaned deep in his throat, the low growl muted as Clive kissed him again, his hands uncurling from around Ioan’s wrists to reach up and lace his fingers through Ioan’s.

Pulling back, Clive licked his lips, the corner of his mouth curling into a knowing hint of a smile. “Better?” He shifts until his cock is pressed hard against Ioan’s hip, lifting his leg slightly to feel the weight of Ioan’s erection against his thigh.

Ioan nodded imperceptibly. “Better.”

Clive brought their joined hands down to his mouth and twisted his hand, kissing the inside of Ioan’s wrist. “You sure?” He repeated the gesture with their other hands as Ioan nodded. “Good.”

“Good?” Ioan asked softly, his tongue chasing the hint of smoke and ale from his lips. He pushed away from the wall just enough to apply pressure to Clive’s body. “So we’ll just go in and you’ll buy the pints this time?”

Clive’s chuckle was deep and rough. “Not exactly.” He moved his other leg between Ioan’s and leaned into him, his cock pressing hard to Ioan’s erection. “I don’t want a pint.”

Ioan’s breath caught and he leaned in, his mouth pressed against Clive’s throat, teeth catching the stubbled flesh quickly before he leaned back. “What do you want?”

Clive released Ioan and ran his hand down over Ioan’s shirt to the fastening of his pants. Undoing the belt, he thrust it aside and undid the fastening, sliding the zipper down. “You’ve a knack for the obvious, Gruffudd,” Clive closed his eyes as he bent his head, finding Ioan’s mouth once again. His hand pushed past the denim, curving around the smooth cotton of Ioan’s boxer-briefs, rubbing the thick flesh beneath.

Ioan pulled back, gasping for breath, his hips thrusting him against Clive’s hand. “Part of my charm.”

Clive freed his hand and stepped back, rubbing the back of his hand across his mouth. His other hand cupped the back of Ioan’s neck and pulled him forward away from the wall. “It’s not your charm I’m interested in.” He licked Ioan’s neck from the open collar of his shirt to the hollow below his ear. “Turn ‘round.”

Ioan’s body shook as he straightened, turning to face the wall. Clive moved against him, his hands finding Ioan’s again and pinning them back above his head. He took a sharp nip at Ioan’s earlobe and laughed low, the sound thick with want.

“I’m going to fuck you, Ioan.” He released Ioan’s hands and shoved the denim and cotton down off Ioan’s hips to his thighs, inhaling sharply as Ioan shuddered in the cold air. His voice rasped with heat, “That’s part of my charm.”

Ioan’s hands curled into fists against the wall and he rests his head against the cold brick, turning it so that he could watch as Clive unfastened his own jeans, thrusting the denim aside and freeing his cock. He stepped forward, the sleek, hot skin of his erection against Ioan’s arse. Ioan closed his eyes and inhaled, his chest rising and falling rapidly as Clive’s hips ground against his arse.

“Give it over, Ioan.”

Ioan swallowed hard and opened his eyes, his voice rough as he struggled to breathe through the sensation of Clive’s body against his. “What?”

Clive stopped moving, his hand reaching around to curve around Ioan’s cock, stroking it slowly. His voice was a low growl. “Give it to me.”

Ioan nodded shakily and reached down, feeling for his pocket in the mass of fabric at his thighs. He found it and tugged the small tube free, handing it to Clive. He moaned quietly as Clive slipped his hand free of Ioan’s cock and took it.

“You are a cocky little bastard, aren’t you?”

Ioan laughed softly. “Surely not so little.”

The firm pressure of Clive’s fingers pressed against the tight muscle of Ioan’s ass for a endless moment before penetrating him. Ioan cursed under his breath, the thick sound of Welsh falling from his lips as the fingers stretched him, pulling and thrusting and stroking inside him. The words faded to a soft groan as Clive’s fingers caught his left wrist again. “Show me.”

“Fuck,” Ioan ground out and closed his eyes, reaching down with his free hand and wrapping it around his cock. He could feel Clive’s breath on his cheek, the rough brick against the other, his palm aching as it rubbed against the wall. “Clive…Christ.”

“Show me, Ioan.”

He began stroking himself, biting his lower lip in an effort to control his rough, gasping breath. He moaned as Clive moved away, taking the heat of his fingers with him. He released his lip, his mouth opening in a soft cry as the thick flesh of Clive’s cock replaced his fingers. Ioan’s nails dug into the brick as his hand tightened around his cock, trying to slow to Clive’s rhythm as he thrust inside him.

“Fuck.” Ioan’s voice ground out between his teeth, changing as Clive increased his speed, thrusting harder and fasting. Mouth open in an effort to find oxygen, Ioan’s words melted to Welsh, softly begging and cursing as he stroked himself, his body bucking back hard against Clive. He fought with the words, struggling for English as his breath shook, huffing through his mouth and nose as he focused his attention on the head of his cock, his body clenching tightly. Clive’s fingers dug into the skin of Ioan’s wrist and his other hand curved around Ioan’s hip, settling over his hand. Ioan found his voice, whispering, “Please.”

Clive’s body jerked, the hot rush of his orgasm pulsing against Ioan’s body. Ioan shivered and came as well, his head falling back to rest on Clive’s shoulder. “Bloody hell,” Clive breathed. He leaned into Ioan, bending his head and pressing his rough, dry lips to Ioan’s shoulder. “Fuck.”

Ioan nodded and rotated his wrist, groaning as Clive released him and he brought his arm down. Clive eased away from him and turned, falling against the wall beside him. He caught Ioan’s hand and lifted it, glancing at the dark red marks that marred his skin.

“You want me to kiss it? Make it better?”

“Oh, sod off,” Ioan laughed. “I want you to buy me a pint. Or three.” He forced himself away from the wall and tugged at his clothes. “And then I want to go to bed.”

“I’ve a case of Guinness in my room.” Clive offered. “And a bed.”

Ioan’s eyebrow lifted. “Is that part of your charm as well?”

“I dunno, Ioan.” Clive stood and adjusted his pants, heading for the pub and tossing Ioan a wicked grin over his shoulder. “You tell me.”

 


End file.
